Springtime Ahhhh. The valley is alive and in vivid color. Dogwood flowers open wide. Perfect white hands scatter over the branches. Highlight against the deep green of the Jefferies, Ponderosas, and Firs. Rusty red of the living bark.
The meadows are light and fluffy green, brilliant like the soft moss on a moist boulder.
Swallowtails flutter, and fuzzy caterpillars cross the road. We stop to look. To touch. To smell. (And our allergies go crazy. Sniff. Sniff. Sniff.) But it's worth it. Worth it to be alive in the valley. To be a part of something so old. So grand. And so perfect.